Sworn Virgin by Elvira Dones

conversation short.
    The village is without a replacement doctor for a long time. The Ministry of Health doesn’t have another man to sacrifice to the mountains. The only nurse decides to devote herself to sick children, leaving the adults to fend for themselves.
    â€˜Hana, my girl,’ the nurse says one day. ‘You need to go down to Scutari to pick up your uncle’s drugs. I can’t do everything, and anyway it’s dangerous, a woman all alone … I’m married and my husband won’t allow it.’
    â€˜They wouldn’t give me the drugs, Comrade Nurse. They’re imported.’
    â€˜I’ll call the pharmacist in Scutari,’ the nurse reassures her. ‘I know him personally.’
    The nurse is in her forties, but her expression makes her look older, almost ancient. She observes Hana with curiosity, her big eyes boring into her.
    â€˜What about you? Aren’t you going back to Tirana?’
    â€˜I’ll go say goodbye to a few friends and find out when I can retake the final exam that I missed.’
    â€˜I’ve never been to Tirana, I’ve only ever seen it on TV. Is it really that beautiful or do they make it look that way so that we mountain people envy them?’
    Hana thinks about it.
    â€˜There are buildings and asphalt,’ she says finally.
    â€˜And I suppose your shoes don’t get muddy?’
    â€˜It depends.’
    More silence. The nurse’s curiosity goes into standby.
    â€˜I’m tired,’ Hana says, and goes out without saying goodbye.
    Gjergj tries to keep his pain under control, but when he has no energy left to fight it he turns nasty.
    â€˜Get out of here! Go away! I don’t want you here!’
    She obeys and takes refuge in her room with her books. She leafs through them, but the feelings she once had for them have turned into smoke that chokes her suddenly. She doesn’t love them anymore, and she feels guilty.
    One day she tells her uncle she has to go down to Scutari to get his drugs. He looks a little better this morning; his expression is lively and a vein is pulsing on the back of his hand. He shakes his head.
    â€˜I have to go,’ Hana says. ‘You only have three days’ worth of medication here.’
    He’s still against it.
    â€˜I’ll go tomorrow morning with one of the trucks carrying wood down to the city. I expect a driver will have room for me.’
    He waves his arms in total disapproval.
    â€˜So tell me, what should we do?’ Hana asks rudely. ‘You tell me, since you know everything. Am I supposed to stay here and watch you suffering without doing anything to help?’
    He looks daggers at her, tries to say something but lets out little more than a grunt.
    â€˜Yeah, I know, Uncle. I’m a woman and I shouldn’t be talking like this. I should know my place.’
    He grabs the stick that he keeps by his bed and thumps it on the table. His hand is so unsteady that the stick falls onto the worn-out kilim .
    â€˜I’m sorry,’ she says, as soon as she gets over the shock. ‘Forgive me … Will you forgive me?’
    She hugs him. She curls up between his shoulder and his chin. Gjergj’s heart is a drum that has lost its beat.
    â€˜You can’t go alone, my little one,’ he whispers in her ear. ‘It’s dangerous.’
    â€˜I’ll try. Look, I know how to take care of myself.’
    â€˜There are wolves out there, my daughter. This place is full of wolves.’
    There is a brief, transparent moment of silence. Then Hana decides to play along with her uncle.
    â€˜It’s summer, Uncle Gjergj. The wolves aren’t that hungry.’
    She gives him a couple of pills that are supposed to help him sleep. Then she goes up to her room and stands by the window listening to the late afternoon: the dialogue between plants and animals, life twisting up and then stretching out. A year ago, Hana would have been moved by